The King of the Golden River by John Ruskin (namjoon book recommendations TXT) 📕

CHAPTER V

HOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER,

AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN, WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST

 

When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back, he was very

sorry and did not know what to do. He had no money and was

obliged to go and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked

him very hard and gave him very little money. So, after a month

or two, Gluck grew tired and made up his mind to go and try his

fortune with the Golden River. “The little king looked very

kind,” thought he. “I don’t think he will turn me into a black

stone.” So he went to the priest, and the priest gave him some

holy water as soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck took some

bread in his basket, and the bottle of water, and set off very

early for the mountains.

 

If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue in his

brothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so

strong nor so practiced on the mountains. He had several very

bad falls, lost his basket and bread, and was very much

frightened at the strange noises under the ice. He lay a long

time to rest on the grass, after he had got over, and began to

climb the hill just in the hottest part of the day. When he had

climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty and was going to

drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming down the

path above him, looking very feeble and leaning on a staff. “Why

son,” said the old man, “I am faint with thirst; give me some of

that water.” Then Gluck looked at him, and when he saw that he

was pale and weary, he gave him the water. “Only pray don’t

drink it all,” said Gluck. But the old man drank a great deal

and gave him back the bottle two thirds empty. Then he bade him

good speed, and Gluck went on again merrily. And the path became

easier to his feet, and two or three blades of grass appeared

upon it, and some grasshoppers began singing on the bank beside

it, and Gluck thought he had never heard such merry singing.

 

Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him

so that he thought he should be forced to drink. But as he

raised the flask he saw a little child lying panting by the

roadside, and it cried out piteously for water. Then Gluck

struggled with himself and determined to bear the thirst a

little longer; and he put the bottle to the child’s lips, and it

drank it all but a few drops. Then it smiled on him and got up

and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked after it till it became

as small as a little star, and then turned and began climbing

again. And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers growing on

the rocks— bright green moss with pale pink, starry flowers, and

soft belled gentians, more blue than the sky at its deepest, and

pure white transparent lilies. And crimson and purple

butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such

pure light that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.

 

Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became

intolerable again; and when he looked at his bottle, he saw that

there were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not

venture to drink. And as he was hanging the flask to his belt

again, he saw a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for

breath— just as Hans had seen it on the day of his ascent. And

Gluck stopped and looked at it, and then at the Golden River, not

five hundred yards above him; and he thought of the dwarf’s

words, that no one could succeed except in his first attempt; and

he tried to pass the dog, but it whined piteously and Gluck

stopped again. “Poor beastie,” said Gluck, “it’ll be dead when I

come down again, if I don’t help it.” Then he looked closer and

closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mournfully that he

could not stand it. “Confound the king and his gold too,” said

Gluck, and he opened the flask and poured all the water into the

dog’s mouth.

 

The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail

disappeared; its ears became long, longer, silky, golden; its

nose became very red; its eyes became very twinkling; in three

seconds the dog was gone, and before Gluck stood his old

acquaintance, the King of the Golden River.

 

“Thank you,” said the monarch. “But don’t be frightened; it’s

all right”—for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternation

at this unlooked-for reply to his last observation. “Why didn’t

you come before,” continued the dwarf, “instead of sending me

those rascally brothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of

turning into stones? Very hard stones they make, too.”

 

“O dear me!” said Gluck, “have you really been so cruel?”

 

“Cruel!” said the dwarf; “they poured unholy water into my

stream. Do you suppose I’m going to allow that?”

 

“Why,” said Gluck, “I am sure, sir,—your Majesty, I mean,— they

got the water out of the church font.”

 

“Very probably,” replied the dwarf, “but” (and his countenance

grew stern as he spoke) “the water which has been refused to the

cry of the weary and dying is unholy, though it had been blessed

by every saint in heaven; and the water which is found in the

vessel of mercy is holy, though it had been defiled with

corpses.”

 

So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his

feet. On its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. And

the dwarf shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his

hand. “Cast these into the river,” he said, “and descend on the

other side of the mountains into the Treasure Valley. And so

good speed.”

 

As he spoke the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. The

playing colors of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic

mist of dewy light; he stood for an instant veiled with them as

with the belt of a broad rainbow. The colors grew faint; the

mist rose into the air; the monarch had evaporated.

 

And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its waves

were as clear as crystal and as brilliant as the sun. And when

he cast the three drops of dew into the stream, there opened

where they fell a small, circular whirlpool, into which the

waters descended with a musical noise.

 

Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed,

because not only the river was not turned into gold, but its

waters seemed much diminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his

friend the dwarf and descended the other side of the mountains

towards the Treasure Valley; and as he went he thought he heard

the noise of water working